Convicts and Clinics
by hughville
Summary: Cameron tells House she hates him; House convinces her that she doesn't.


**A/N: This one takes place during the S2 episode _Acceptance_.**

~*~*~*

Cameron made a few final notes in the chart and closed the file. She stood up and prepared to leave the exam room when the door opened and House entered. He turned and locked the door and then limped over to lock the other door.

"House," Cameron asked suspiciously, "what are you doing?"

"Nothing," he responded in that annoyingly cheerful way of his. He moved to the blinds and snapped them closed.

Cameron smacked the file down on the exam table. "If you've come to tell me I can't do the lavage-"

"Nope," he interrupted her.

"I'm covering your clinic duty, what else do you want?"

"I've come to prove you don't hate me," he told her, advancing on her. "You might say you do, but you don't. Not really."

She backed up against the table and then slipped around it. House snagged her arm with the handle of his cane and pulled her toward him. When she stood before him, their bodies nearly touching, he smirked down at her.

"If you really hated me," he whispered, "you'd just leave. But you don't. So you stay."

"I do hate you," she breathed.

"Liar," he grinned. His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her against him as his head dipped down. In the moment before his mouth closed over hers, she closed her eyes, bracing herself. She expected his kiss to be hard; bruising; punishing. Instead his lips brushed against hers gently. His fingers lightly stroked her back. When his tongue touched her bottom lip, her mouth opened. His breath mingled with hers as his tongue stroked into her mouth. She felt him remove her lab coat and then felt his fingers against the bare skin of her waist. He continued to kiss her, soft feathery kisses, as he undressed her. His gentle touch sent a flood of desire coursing through her. His fingers trailed over her bare skin; light caresses that made her shiver. Every touch was soft; gentle; delicate. His mouth touched her throat and she shivered again.

"House," she moaned.

"Cameron," he replied, licking the throbbing pulse at the base of her neck.

"Why?" she gasped as his fingers kneaded the soft swell of her breast.

"Why what?" he murmured against her skin.

She tilted her head back and tried to breathe. The feel of his warm hands against her skin was making her pulse jump erratically and causing her breath to catch in her throat.

"You've never done this before," she panted.

"Sure I have," he told her, licking her left nipple and then blowing on it. She cried out at the sensation of his warm breath on her wet skin.

"Not like this," she moaned.

"Like what?" he asked, moving to her right breast. His tongue swirled around the taut nipple and desire jolted through her.

"Oh, God!" she cried. "You're usually not so gentle."

"I'm gentle every time," he contradicted her. "I am the epitome of gentleness."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He lifted her onto the exam table with a slight grunt and grimace. He cocked an eyebrow and smiled at her. He stripped off his clothes and came to stand between her legs.

"When have I ever hurt you?" he asked, his breath warm against her ear.

Cameron opened her mouth to answer but House cut off her reply with another gentle, soul shattering kiss. As his lips moved over hers, his hands slid down her back to her hips. He pulled her to the edge of the table. She could feel his erection pressing against her.

"Don't you like this?" he murmured against her shoulder. His tongue traced over her skin, leaving trails of fire in its wake. She gripped his shoulders and pressed closer to him.

"Yes," she breathed. "I'm just not used to you being this way."

"It's a nice change, don't you think?"

"You're just doing this to make a point," she panted.

"Am I?" he whispered against her throat.

His hand slid across her thigh, his fingers digging into the muscles gently. They danced upward until he reached the strip of hair at the juncture of her thighs. When his finger slipped between the damp folds, she cried out again, more loudly this time. House laughed and kissed her.

"Not so loud," he whispered against her mouth. "If Cuddy finds out, she'll put an end to our fun."

"House," she whimpered. "Why are you doing this?"

"I like it. It's nice."

His fingers teased her, drawing moisture from her and causing her to shudder against him.

"I mean, why today?" she asked breathlessly, pushing against his fingers, trying to increase the gentle pressure.

"I told you," he answered, pressing more delicate kisses against her shoulder.

"So, this is all to prove that I don't really hate you?" she gasped. The feel of his fingers against her sensitive skin was making her dizzy with excitement.

"Mmmhmm," he hummed against her breast. She jerked as his mouth closed over her tight nipple at the exact moment his finger pressed more firmly against her.

"House!" she cried.

He lifted his head and smiled lazily at her before kissing her again. As his tongue slipped into her mouth, he pressed against her and slid inside her. His hands gently grasped her hips, pulling her toward him until he filled her completely.

She tried to thrust against him, but he held her still.

"Relax," he murmured. "Open your eyes and look at me."

She forced her eyes open. He stared at her intently. His desire was evident in the dilated pupils surrounded by a thin ring of brilliant blue. His hands moved up to hold her head in place.

"You don't hate me," he said fiercely. "Say it."

She tried to turn her head but his hands held her tightly. He thrust forward and pushed further into her, making her gasp.

"Say it."

"I don't hate you," she whimpered.

His hands released her head and moved down to pull her against him in a tight embrace. Then he began to move; slow, gentle thrusts that sent pleasure rippling through her.

"Yes," she moaned. "Yes, yes, yes."

His hands and mouth began a gentle exploration of every inch of her skin he could reach. The combination of his languid thrusts and soft caresses sent her over the edge. She felt her muscles tighten on him and she bit his shoulder to keep from crying out.

As her orgasm ripped through her, he groaned and gripped her hips. His thrusts became more forceful and she wrapped her legs around his waist. This she was used to; this she knew. His thrusts became harder, more rapid and she dug her fingers into his back. As he moaned against her throat, she felt him jerk against her. She held him as he climaxed, his fingers digging painfully into her hips. His breath rasped against her damp skin and she could feel the thunderous beat of his heart against her breast.

Slowly he released her and moved back. He bent and picked up their clothes, tossing hers onto her lap. As they dressed, he refused to meet her eyes.

"Your test is going to show there's no infection. You'll have to do a biopsy which will prove she's terminal," he said quietly, referring to her patient, Cindy. Retrieving his cane, he unlocked the door and left.

Cameron shook her head and pulled on her lab coat. She looked at the clock. The two hours she'd traded for permission to do her procedure were up. She went to do the segmental bronchoalveolar lavage on Cindy. House had to be wrong. He had to.


End file.
